So its been more than 6 months now since I moved out of the home nest and into my own place. At this point I should be organised... but I'm not... The inside was actually all looking just right for Christmas, the balcony took a little longer but by the end of January it had taken shapen too... and then the painters came.
The apartment I moved into is going through a process by which the entire building is to be repainted. They were starting on my side so come February all my balcony things have moved in amongst the rest of the place, it is a more crowded nest now and frustratingly progress has halted on the painting and we are in limbo whilst painters argue with building managers.
I in turn feel my own life falling into that same stasis of waiting for the paint to dry. The novelty of having lots of reading couches and extra chairs clogging up the space in a hodgepodge has worn off now. The nest is looking messy but what motivation is there to make it all gleaming and tidy if these large objects so misplaced continue to remain so.
I've never been good at keeping appointments in a diary, I've also stored them in my mind and never missed a beat... but things are getting on top of me and I am losing track of all those threads, I missed my hairdressing appointment, the rollover of my term deposit account and quell horrer... a performance at the Sydney Theatre company. Obviously I need to start keeping track of things on paper somewhere but being so unused to it I forget to put things in and the cycle continues.
Negative mutterings aside I was glancing through some old notebooks and remembered a rather productive time in my life when I was keeping a blog of sorts (before the term took off) and how it took me out of the mental bog I was in back then and I wound up with some good pieces of writing in the process.
I was also reading some interesting and inspiring blogs on Sunday and thought, well why aren't I doing this sort of thing anymore. So here I am.